


Destiny Rules

by Slittherwolfe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crash Landing, F/M, Jedi Rey, Jedi Training, Luke isn't a dumbass and goes after Ben, M/M, Mild Decapitation, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated mature for gore, but whoops too late, hey look a plot, some gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-11 14:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15317310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slittherwolfe/pseuds/Slittherwolfe
Summary: The First Order has nearly won. They swept through the galaxy like wildfire, bringing death and misery with every victory they claim.The Resistance knows they have no choice. Desperate times call for desperate measures.Enter Rey, one of the last Jedis training under Luke Skywalker. She's taken from the place she calls home and dropped into the bloodthirsty maw of the First Order. She's there to complete her mission: take down the Supreme Leader and bring peace to the galaxy.What she didn't expect was to come face-to-face with Kylo Ren, the boy she met years ago in an old Imperial star-destroyer. Whose gift to her still hangs around her neck and whose words have never really left her heart, not even after all these years.--An Alternate Universe Fic: What if Luke had trained Rey? What if Rey and Ben had met before TFA?





	Destiny Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shslumbrella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslumbrella/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, dear friends, to the beginning of a new fic!
> 
> This fic draws inspiration from multiple sources, most notably 'Scarlet Heart: Ryeo' and 'The King's Woman', which are Asian dramas that I recommend to everyone.
> 
> I've come up with a new posting schedule, with regular updates of this + my other multi-chapter every Friday and Monday. So there could be weeks where one fic is updated twice, but I'll try not to do that. More chapters may come out on other days if I'm feeling particularly inspired.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the loVE OF MY LIFE, shslumbrella, who is so amazing ilysm bb thank u for being the words boi to my words man hello U hAvE tHe BEsT bESt
> 
> The title of this work is based off the first verse of the song 'Destiny Rules' by Fleetwood Mac:
> 
> Maybe we were together in another life  
> Maybe we are together in a parallel universe  
> Maybe our paths are not supposed to cross twice  
> Maybe your arms are not supposed to go around me

If not for the blistering heat, Ben would’ve thought he’d died. The air around him rippled like fire, sending shocks of agony through his heavy limbs. His head pounded, a result of dehydration, the arid, infernal climate of whatever damned planet he’d landed on, and the crash that had gotten him onto it. He had no idea how his shipmate- a young Savarian girl called Rhykka- had fared, but he wasn’t too concerned about her for the minute, not when it felt as though he’d been thrown into in the lava lakes of Mustafar.  
  


Ben didn’t know how long he’d been laying out there in the open. _Too_ long, certainly; there was no doubt in his mind that Luke would be able to free himself from the ruins of Ben’s hut, whether it be in a couple of minutes or a couple of days. Rage sizzled through him, hotter and more intense than anything this planet could have managed, at the thought of his teacher, his own _uncle_ living after what he’d tried to do. He felt him through the Force, a weak, repulsive presence that made him shudder. That hypocritical, self-righteous Jedi bastard didn’t deserve to live. He should’ve died right there, crushed like the mindless, pathetic bug that he was. How could he preach peace, harmony, serenity, while holding a saber over the head of his own nephew? And if the galaxy’s way of getting Ben to repent was to send him plummeting into some backwater planet to die, it was sorely mistaken.  
  


Muscles screaming, Ben managed to haul himself up onto his forearms. He pried his eyes open, eyes sealed shut with blood that had dripped down from a gash on his temple. Flecks of rust-red mingled with the sand that had blown over him in a fine, burn-orange layer. He inspected himself: two arms? Yes. Two legs? Yes. He felt up and down his body for any other wounds, finding only a couple of sore spots that would darken into violent bruises. It could’ve been worse.  
  


Suddenly remembering that he wasn’t alone, Ben twisted around in search of the other padawan. His back creaked painfully with the effort of his movements. The sun, high in the sky, glared into his eyes and blinded him. He squinted, the world fading back into the monochrome reds and oranges of this planet. The only thing that stood out for miles were the wedges of shining metal strewn across the landscape and what looked to be an old Imperial star-destroyer in the far distance. He spotted his companion not a few metres from where he had landed, stomach plummeting in revulsion at the sight of her.  
  


Rhykka hadn’t fared as well as Ben had, evidently: a wicked, jagged looking piece of piping had sheathed itself within her gut. Dried blood had dripped halfway down its length before drying out under the blistering sun. Her face was twisted into a mask that could’ve been one of aggression, teeth bared like a feral animal. Though, accompanied by the low moans she made, it was unmistakable for anything other than pure anguish. Blood painted the skin of her bare stomach and where it had trickled down on her forearms, still glistening wetly, red against sable. The now shredded-up edges of her light brown padawan garb had been similarly stained, blooming across the fabric like some sort of morbid embroidery. She was mumbling something in a language Ben couldn’t understand. Perhaps it was a prayer to whatever arcane gods her people worshipped, wishing for a merciful afterlife or something just as inane.  
  


Ben crawled over to her, legs still weak to carry his weight, and held a hand. Her fingers twitched, raising slightly to meet his, but it was knocked out of the way. Ben barely paid any mind to her cry of shock as he summoned Rhykka’s lightsaber into his hand. He inspected the unfamiliar weapon, taking in the strange, decorative carvings along the metal grip, before activating it. The familiar hum of it coming to life soothed him, something he could hold onto while the rest of his life was seemingly crumbling apart.

  
With shaking hands, he poised the lightsaber just underneath her throat. The slightest movement, even a slip of the hand, would’ve ended her life right there. Rhykka’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what Ben was about to do. “No,” she whispered hoarsely, desperately. She struggled to bring her head up, away from her own blade. “I helped you, Ben,” she hissed. “ _I helped you! I killed them for you, burned down the entire temple!_ Please, don’t. I’m begging you, Ben, I’m beg-”

  
Ben silenced her with a thought. Her throat dipped closer to the blade of her lightsaber as she struggled to breathe. Rhykka gasped wordlessly, lips still mouthing pleas Ben wouldn’t even consider. Only the weak begged for mercy, and Ben had no room for weakness. Not anymore. “Goodbye, Rhykka,” he whispererd, his voice cold and hard. She squeezed her eyes shut just as the blade swung up, singing through her flesh effortlessly. Her head fell to the ground with a clang, a dull crack accompanying it. As it rolled down the slope of the dune, Ben noticed that her nose had been broken by the fall. Not that it would make any difference now.

  
Ben’s gut twisted guiltily as he turned away from Rhykka’s body, a useless, residual feeling from Luke’s learnings that he would do well to forget. Rhykka would have been a burden, injured and helpless. Weak, like Luke, like the Jedi teachings. Snoke had shown him a new way. A better way, he had told Ben. The First Order had already conquered half the galaxy, a testament to their strength. With Ben, Snoke had assured him, the whole universe would be theirs for the taking. Any guilt that Ben felt was quelled at the thought. He knew that Snoke could see into his mind. He was probably doing it this very second, wondering why his apprentice wasn’t on his way to him. That mean, Ben realized, that help was on its way. He had no doubt that Snoke was already sending a shuttle his way. All Ben had to do was wait.

  
What seemed like hours later, however, there was still no sign of any sort of spacecraft in the sky. He’d tried reaching out to Snoke through the Force, only to find silence staring back at him. It wasn’t often that that happened; ever since Ben had been a child, Snoke had been there, whispering in the back of his mind. It was only when he got older that he was able to establish a two-way link, master connecting to apprentice and vice-versa. He knew the silence wouldn’t last. It never did. But there was no way he would just sit and wait for Snoke to come and save him. He was far better than that.

  
It had somehow gotten even hotter than before, and Ben could literally see the air around him distorting under the heat. He’d already shucked off his outer layers, leaving him in only a light, short-sleeved undershirt. He had been tempted to strip off his pants, but thought better of it: no good came to anything around sand. So he sat there, body threatening to combust, in the hopes of spotting a ship that may or may not be coming to get him.

  
Agitated, Ben wiped the seat off his brow with the back of his hand. His throat stung from dehydration, every breath feeling like razors sliding down his throat. There were no emergency supplies stored on the shuttle, and any water in the ship’s atmosphere or condenser had long since evaporated. He doubted that Rhykka had stored anything on her, and besides, the idea of sacking a corpse to survive was distasteful to an extreme.

  
Ben glanced over to the Imperial star-destroyer on the horizon. There must be _something_ in the ship. Water. Food. Parts for a comm unit. _Anything._ At the very least, it would give him some respite from the sun. He decided that it would make more sense for him to move, get his mind straight. He scrambled to his feet, his body recovered just enough that it didn’t scream at him every time he moved to take a step. He blundered down the dune, barely able to stay upright as the sand shifted beneath his already unsteady feet. Ben glanced back up at the part of his shuttle that he’d just abandoned. He could just make out Rhykka’s body from down here, the edges of her clothes flowing in the slight breeze. He took a deep, calming breath and set off, wondering just how long it would take for him to reach the star-destroyer.

  
Ben found himself at the foot of the hulking star-destroyer quicker than he expected. The sun, he decided, had been playing tricks on him, making it seem further away than it actually was. Scrambling up the steep dune leading up to the ship, he scanned the side for an opening he could slip in through. He spotted a bent back panel half-buried under the sand. Reaching the top, he got down on all fours, the coarse sand grating the palms of his hands as he slid into the ship. Ben tumbled into the ship with a resounding clank, groaning as he picked himself up.

  
He wrinkled his nose at the stale, slightly rancid smell of the interior. Who knew how many mangy sand rats had died down here, he thought. With trepidation, he stalked the faded hallways of the ship with intent, his eyes and mind still sharp even though the rest of his body was a blundering mess. A faded sign jumped out at him: COMMUNICATIONS DECK, it read. He breathes a sigh of relief before wincing at the sharp pain in his throat. He makes a mental note to find some water afterward.

  
The communications deck, thankfully, still seems to have a couple of salvageable comm units in it, despite its decrepit looks. Ben manages to piece together a simple, short-range device, thankful at last for the years of mechanic work he’d had to do on the Falc-

  
Ben halted his thoughts before they could go any further, slamming his fist on the display of the comm unit in front of him. His body was on high-alert at the mere mention of…

  
“Keep. It. Together,” he growled to himself under his breath. He clenched and unclenched his hand, nails biting into his skin as he tried to tamp down his anger. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not now that he was so close to getting out of this mess. He glanced down at the comm unit, glad to find that he’d managed to only crack the display a little. A fine tracery of lines shattered outwards from where his knuckles had hit the screen, though not enough to damage the hardware. He tapped impatiently at the glitching screen, establishing a link directly to Snoke’s flagship, the Supremacy.

 _  
This is Ben Solo, apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke,_ he sent. _Crash landed on unknown planet, require assistance immediately._

  
Ben shut his eyes as a wave of nausea wracked through his body. His body shook as the effects of the torrid heat finally caught up with him, turning his brain and body to mush. He fell to his knees, grabbing the edge of the console in a vain attempt to keep himself upright. His vision swam, blurring until all the colours ran together into black. He vaguely felt himself keeling over backwards before passing out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The speeder zipped through the desert landscape effortlessly, purring smoothly beneath Rey. She grinned euphorically, relishing in possibly the greatest victory she had achieved in her six years stuck on Jakku. It was the culmination of years of effort, taking things from here and there whenever she could. As a result, it wasn’t exactly the most beautiful thing in the galaxy, but it was a hell of a lot faster than walking was, and for that, Rey was grateful. She could go further now, scavenging more than she could before, and from farther afield. In particular, Rey had her eyes set on the Graveyard, a hodgepodge of crashed Imperial ships that only the most well-equipped scavengers ever ventured out to. The likelihood that she would find junk worth more than a measly half-ration was high, and Rey’s perpetually empty stomach couldn’t wait.

  
Rey’s heart jumped in excitement as the Graveyard loomed ever closer, the corroded conning tower of a star-destroyer standing proud above the rest of the wreckage. Sand had long since swallowed most of the bottom half of the behemoth structure, making it look deceptively small from this distance. It was surrounded by tens of smaller ships, both Imperial and Rebel ships alike. She spotted an almost completely intact TIE starfighter jutting out of a dune as she zipped past and wondered if she could get her hands on an ion drive or two. She knew that some of Plutt’s more… distasteful clientele would pay good money for functioning Imperial tech. She made a mental note to stop and inspect one of the TIEs on her way back.

  
Pulling her goggles off her face, she jumped off the speeder a few feet away from the star-destroyer and grabbed her worn, grimy satchel from the speeder, slipping it across her body. She trudged up towards the mouths of the ion drives, these ones much larger than the ones on the TIE. An old scavenger she’d met had told her that there was an opening just above the drive on the far right, one easy spot if you knew what you were looking for.

  
Rey stopped to catch her breath as she reached the top of the dune, looking up to see whether the old man was lying or not. Her eyes latched onto a sliver of black, stark against the still-bright metal exterior of the destroyer. A wide grin spread over her face under her crude fabric mask; things were turning around for her. Finally. Her eyes tracked a path up to the opening, her hands and feet following without hesitation. She heaved herself through the tight gap, rolling out onto a metal walkway, its handrail rusted down to barely inch-long nubs. Nothing to save her if she stumbled and fell. She hops up, shaking he head clear, and pulls her goggles back over her eyes before setting off.

  
Her bag was full by the time she got to the dormitories. The impact of the crash must’ve knocked about half the parts out; the majority of her haul was found scattered across the floors. She considered stopping there, but a quick glance through one of the narrow, grimy windows next running next to her showed her that there were still a few hours until sundown.

  
Rey pokes her head into a room, giving it her usual cursory glance. There isn’t much to it, just a narrow cot, a tiny closet, and a desk wedged into the corner next to her. A thick layer of dust is the only decoration in the room. Rey swiped a finger through it, leaving a streak of stark white on the desk. She wondered about who used to live here. Maybe a stormtrooper, or a low-ranking official. Or maybe no one at all. That would explain why it was so empty. Curious, she opened up the closet, hoping to find a uniform or something to confirm her speculations.

  
She was right; a dusty officer’s uniform hung on the far right. Stuck to the back of the closet, though, were pictures. A young man, dressed in his Imperial uniform, average in every sense of the word, smiled at her from one of them, his arms around a vibrant-looking blonde woman in grand purple robes. His arm is looped around her shoulders and they stand outside a towering building on a planet far from Jakku. Rey pulls it down and flips it over. There’s writing on the back, but she can’t tell what it says. She can make out a few letters, even managing to read a full word: Arra. That must’ve been the woman’s name, she thinks. She’s in all of the other pictures as well, ranging from what seemed to be shots of her standing behind a podium, a serious look plastered on her face, to ones of her with two pudgy little children clutching her hands. A pang raced through Rey’s heart, and loneliness shot through her veins. She quickly shut the closet door, cursing at herself for wasting time.

  
She slips quietly out of the room, as if treading too heavily would wake the ghost of Arra’s lover. She follows the trail of her own footprints back to the exit. She pads across the creaky walkway, praying for it to hold up.

  
Obviously, it did not. Even through the rush of pure terror, Rey felt, a little voice in the back of her mind sighed in exasperation at her bad luck.

  
Rey scrabbled at the edges of the broken walkway, her fingers burning with the strain of keeping her hanging there. Her breath came in desperate gasps as she tried hauling herself up. Her arms wobbled dangerously, and only when she felt that she couldn’t hold on much longer did she close her eyes, waiting for mind-shattering pain to hit her as she plummeted to the ground below her.

  
She landed on her side, ribs groaning as agony reverberated through them. All the air was knocked from her lungs, so she spent the next eternity gasping for air like a fish out of water. She groaned, low and pitiful, as she staggered back onto her feet. Through pain-narrowed eyes, she saw that most of her haul had rolled out of her back. She dropped back down to collect them, hands roving across the floor. She grabbed every semi-shiny thing she could see with her blurred vision.

  
Rey grabbed a roundish black object from just behind what seemed to be a comm unit, unsure of what it was. She pulled it towards her, frowning when it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, yanking with as much strength as she could muster. It came free with a final tug, throwing her backwards onto her bum. She landed with an ‘umph’, groaning as another layer of pain added itself to the symphony of agony playing inside her body. Rey blinked, clearing her vision, before looking back down to her hands to see what exactly it was that had sent her flying.

  
It was a shoe. A black, sturdy boot, the material still shining even after all these years. Rey frowned down at it, wondering why the hell she had it. She glanced up and shrieked in terror as she realized that she had yanked it right off a corpse. Rey scrambled back, lobbing the shoe back to where it came from. It sailed in an elegant arc over the comm unit and landed on the other side with a fleshy thud.

  
A groan, very much human and very much _alive,_ emanated from where the boot landed. Rey screamed again, her dry throat ripping with the effort that it took. She glanced frantically around the room for a way out, wanting to get as far away as she could from the drifter she’d just catapulted a shoe at. She spotted a door, partially open, on the other side of the room, and made to sprint towards it before a hoarse voice stopped her.

  
“ _Water,”_ the drifter choked out, his voice rough with what seemed like days of dehydration. Rey froze, unsure of what to do. She edged closer towards the voice, peeking over the edge of the comm unit to catch a glimpse of the drifter.

  
He was pale- that was the first thing that Rey noticed about him. It told her that he wasn’t from around here. Only a light wash of red coloured his skin, which was dusted with constellations of freckles and moles. He wore plain white clothes, dusted with sand and covered with dark stains that Rey immediately recognized as blood. The boy- because he couldn’t have been any more than a few years older than her, stared up at her through bleary eyes, licking his cracked lips. “Water, please,” he repeated, his voice stronger this time.

  
Taking pity on the strange boy, Rey fumbled at her waist for the half-empty canteen she had brought with her. It had dented a bit from the fall, but wasn’t leaking, thank the stars. Hesitantly, she poured out a measure of water into the lid and handed it lowly to the boy. He practically pounced on it, gulping it down with gusto. Rey looked away as his tongue darted out to lick up the last few drops of liquid, inexplicably scandalized. She only turned back around when the boy cleared his throat.

  
His eyes caught hers, intent burning in his dark irises. “You will leave the canteen on the floor and forget that I was ever here,” he said in a commanding voice. Rey’s mouth dropped in surprise.

  
“What?” she said, dumbfounded. _Who does he think he is,_ Rey thought to herself incredulously.

  
“You will leave the canteen on the floor and forget that I was ever here,” the boy repeated through gritted teeth. Rey didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but the alarming quality radiating from the boy on the ground warned her not to.

  
“I’m not giving you my water,” Rey squeaked, rallying courage with each word. She would _not_ back down to this demanding prick. “I’ve only got the one left. I have to make it last ‘til tomorrow.  You’re lucky I gave you even a cup, y’know.”

  
The boy’s expression changed. It was less angry, more shocked. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open rather clownishly. He muttered something under his breath that Rey strained her ears to hear. She couldn’t make it out, though, catching only a couple of words that made no sense. He caught her eye as he looked back up, scowling grumpily. Rey couldn’t help but feel a little bit of amusement bubbling up in her chest at this strange boy. She smothered a little grin before his mood stormed over even more. She’d like to leave this ship alive, thank you very much.

  
“Do you usually get your way when you do that?” Rey asked the boy. She sank down onto the floor, crossing her legs. Rey didn’t know why she wasn’t running. She was curious about him, maybe that was it. That was the only logical explanation. She reached over gingerly to pluck the lid of her canteen from his hand, breathing a little sigh of relief when he didn’t snap at her. “And what’re you doing here anyway? Jakku isn’t exactly somewhere where someone like _you_ comes to visit.”

  
“’Someone like _me_ ’?” the boy repeated, raising his brows. “What does that mean?”

  
“You don’t look like a scavenger to me. You’re definitely from off-planet; you’re too pale to have come from anywhere here. So, tell me: what is someone like _you_ doing on my ship?” Rey took a swig from her canteen, less to do with soothing her parched throat and more so to goad him. She raised her own brows as she caught him looking greedily at the canteen, shooting him a look that said ‘ _You want some?’._

  
“I don’t have to tell you, _scavenger,_ ” he spat testily. “If that’s even what you are.”

  
Rey scoffed. Maybe he was crazier than she’d first thought. She examined him, looking for any sign that he might be joking. But his face divulged nothing. “I’m just Rey,” she told him.

  
He shook his head. “You’re strong in the Force,” he told her. “You could resist my influence. Not many people could’ve done that, especially not scrawny little sand-rats like you.”

  
“It can’t be _that_ hard to resist _you_ ,” Rey snarked back, wounded by his sand-rat comment. “You’re not much to look at, even for a _lowly scavenger_ like me.”

  
“Do your parents let you talk like that at home, Rey? How old are you? Nine? Ten?”

  
She didn’t like how he said her name. She didn’t like that he _knew_ her name. When she looked closer, she could feel a presence shrouding him, wrapping around him like some sort of infernal blanket. Wringing his wrists and ankles like chains. But then the presence disappeared, leaving only her and the boy in the room once more. He still had that cruel half-smirk on his face, as if he were talking to a _child._

  
“I’m _twelve_ , actually. You learn to grow up fast on Jakku.” Rey bristled, trying her best to stare haughtily at the boy across from her as best as she could. Which was quite difficult, seeing as though her head probably only reached his chest. “And I don’t have parents. They left me.”

  
The boy nodded knowingly. His eyes, for a moment, seemed almost sad. But they hardened again, so quickly that Rey almost thought she was imagining it. “I know what that’s like,” he confided. “My own parents threw me away as soon as they realized that I was stronger than they wanted me to be. They thought I was becoming too much like my grandfather.” His face twisted into a glower.

  
Rey was unperturbed. She poured out a little more water into the lid and slid it along the floor towards him. He eyed her warily before picking it up. He savoured it this time, taking little sips instead of inhaling like he did before. When he was done, he nodded curtly in thanks. She saw his shoulders relax a little, the thin white fabric of his shirt rustling as he leaned back against the comm unit.

  
“Who’s your grandfather?” Rey questioned. “Was he a bad man?”

  
The boy shook his head. “No. He just wanted to make the galaxy a better place. He failed, and the Republic slandered his name, his legacy,” he explained bitterly. “They’re tearing apart the galaxy, don’t you know?”

  
“The Republic?”

  
“Yes,” the boy scoffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If they hadn’t killed my grandfather, there would have been peace in the galaxy. You wouldn’t have to sink to scavenging to survive. The Republic took peace and order form the galaxy. That’s why I ran away.”

  
“I thought you were left behind.”

  
“I was. But I ran away from where they tossed me. I have a new master. A better one. He wants the same things I want. He’s offered to teach me,” he explained. He shot Rey a queer look. “He could teach you, too, if you wanted,” he told her. “You’re strong. Maybe one day, you’ll even be as strong as I am.”

  
Rey laughed, “I’m not strong. I can’t even drag my haul over to Plutt’s in one go- and that’s on good days.”

  
“I’m not talking about _physical strength,_ bantha brains,” the boy said, rolling his eyes. Rey was tempted to give him a swift kick, but thought better of it. “I’m talking about the Force.”

  
Rey stared at him blankly. She had no idea what he was going on about. ‘The Force’? It sounded like some sort of cheap trick that smugglers and bounty hunters on Jakku would use to swindle scavengers like her for parts. Using their fists. Or feet. Or any other body part that could be used to pummel someone. “I don’t know what that is,” she admitted finally, to which the boy muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘Outer Rim idiots’.

  
“Snoke, my master, he can teach you about it. He can show you the ways of the Force.” The boy lifted his hand and jerked it up. Rey gasped as the canteen in her hands flew upwards, escaping her grip. She was too stunned to grab it out of the air as it floated towards the boy’s open hand. He took a smug swig as she stared at him in wonderment.

  
“You can… move bottles with the Force?” Rey asked weakly.

  
“You can do more, as well,” the boy elaborated. “You can make people do things. You can look into their minds and see what they’re thinking. The Sith and the Jedi of old were gods among men, Rey, before they were corrupted by weakness. If you leave with me, Snoke can teach you.”

  
Rey almost said yes. An invisible string tugged at her mind, willing her to say yes. Yes to the power. Yes to the glory. Yes to leaving her past behind. There would be nothing that could stop her if she said that one insignificant little word. She’d finally get off this planet, away from Plutt and his goons. She would never go hungry or thirsty again if she said yes. She’d never have to suffer again. How could she turn down an offer like that?

  
But her mind, like it always did when she thought of leaving, flashed back to her parents. ‘ _We’ll come back for you, Rey,’_ she heard her mother say, the ghost of her voice still hanging on in the back of her mind. And Rey had promised to wait, no matter how long it took. She couldn’t turn her back on her promises now.

  
“No,” Rey replied, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave.”

  
The boy sighed in disappointment. “Shame,” he said. “You could’ve been great. Now, you’re stuck digging in the sand for the rest of your life.”

  
Rey glared at him. He’d turned away, glancing around the room aimlessly. “I can still be great,” she told him, determined. “Just because I don’t want to learn the Force with you, doesn’t mean I can’t be great. I will be, you’ll see.”

  
“Sure. Let me know when you get there,” the boy laughed, the hint of a demeaning smile on his face. He pulled something out of his pocket: a stone, the face adorned with a roughly carved insignia of some kind. “This is the crest of the Jedi Order,” he told her softly. His fingers twitched slightly, and the stone broke cleanly in half. “Do you see how easily it breaks? It’s because it’s weak. You could end up like this, you know, without the proper guidance. ‘You can either choose to be great or choose to be a coward.’ That’s what Snoke told me.”

  
“Snoke sounds like an idiot,” Rey said bluntly. “Just because someone doesn’t want to rule the galaxy, doesn’t mean they’re a coward.”

  
“Of course it does,” the boy scoffed. He shot Rey a pitying glance. “Think about it.” He offered Rey half the stone. She took it, their fingers brushing for a split second as he passed the stone from his hand to hers. “Keep this as a reminder.”

  
“A reminder of what?”

  
“What you could’ve been.”

  
They sat in silence, something that should’ve been uncomfortable but wasn’t. Rey thought that, if they’d met in another place, at another time, she would’ve liked him. He seemed like he could be kind if he wanted to. Like a brother, she mused. She’d always wanted a brother. She’d always wanted a _family._ The thought of family made her almost regret saying no to him. There was still time to change her mind. Maybe they’d be each other’s family. He was so similar to her, too. He’d said his parents had abandoned her, just like hers had. And he was the first person she’d talked to in a long time who didn’t want to swindle her or steal from her. A tiny part of her wanted her to change her mind, but…

  
“It’s getting dark,” Rey whispered. “I’ll get lost if I stay here any longer.”

  
The boy nodded in understanding. He looked at her, _really_ looked at her, his dark eyes studying her face with unnerving concentration. “I think I’d like it if we crossed paths one day. Maybe years from now.”

  
“Would you?” she asked. “Are you sure you’d like to cross paths with a coward?” She threw his words back in his face, pleased to see his lips purse guiltily.

  
“I doubt anyone like you could ever be called a coward,” he admitted grudgingly. “Even if you don’t choose greatness.”

  
Rey hazarded a slight grin. She was reluctant to stand up, taking more time than necessary to check if she’d collected all of the parts she’d dropped earlier. She lingered in the doorway longer than what could’ve been classed as normal, perhaps waiting for him to ask her again. If he did, she’d probably say yes.

  
It was lonely on Jakku, after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A ship entered the Jakku atmosphere later that night, when Rey was gorging herself on her whole half-ration that night. It was headed for the Graveyard. For the boy.

  
Only then did she realize that she’d never gotten his name.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The old man didn’t look like he belonged here, either.

  
The stranger wore a brown cloak that covered half of his face and shrouded the other half in darkness. Underneath that, a long off-white robe completed his ensemble, hanging all the way down to his feet. The sleeves were long and baggy, hiding his hands even when they hung by his sides. He shouldn’t have stuck out, not while he was wearing this. But there was something about him, something that screamed power and danger to the denizens of Niima Outpost.

  
Rey tracked his every move as she sat at the table, scrubbing her wares clean. He’d been wandering across the square for the better part of the morning, puzzling everyone who looked on. He’d been sort of an amusement at first: the strange, foreign man doing strange, foreign things. But the buzz died off pretty quickly, and everyone’s eyes drifted back to their menial work. Except for Rey’s.

  
He reminded her of the boy. Not because he looked like him or anything- even if she _had_ seen his face, this stranger wouldn’t have looked anything like him- but because he carried himself with the same self-assuredness that she saw in the boy. The nameless boy. The one she’d almost left this planet with.

  
She felt as though she needed to hide from him, no matter how strange that impulse seemed, even to her. She could’ve been back at her AT-AT by now, preparing her bland, gag-worthy dinner before settling into bed and dreaming of the day her parents come back for her. But she isn’t. She wondered what that said about her.

  
Rey shoved the last of her haul back into her grubby satchel. She still kept her eyes on the man as she wove her way towards the concession stand.

The Blobfish was just as unpleasant as ever as she dumped her haul up onto the counter. She hated how she always had to turn her head up to look at him. Eyeing her spoils, Plutt barked, “A quarter ration.” Knowing better than to argue, Rey swiped the meagre packet off the counter and dashed off. She scanned the yard in search of the man, groaning inwardly as she realized that he had disappeared.

  
She stalked over to the well, nodding in greeting to one of Plutt’s thugs guarding the water tap. Rey held out her canteen eagerly, hoping for the thug to take pity on her and fill it up. He grunted harshly in denial. Rey huffed at the rejection and was about to turn tail when a hand, half covered by a long tan sleeve shot out in front of her face. She jumped back in surprise, about to snap something snarky to the gatecrasher when she realized that it was the stranger. His hood had been pushed down, revealing a stern, bearded face.

  
“You will fill the girl’s canteen,” he ordered the thug calmly, in much the same manner that the boy had spoken to her just a couple of days ago. The thug’s face went blank, and he repeated back:

  
“I will fill up the girl’s canteen.”

  
The canteen was ripped roughly from Rey’s grasp and hastily filled, water dribbling over the sides as the thug pumped the handle too hard. Rey watched, wide-eyed, as rivulets of precious water seeped into the cracked earth below. She quickly glanced up towards the stranger, who barely spared her a glance. He nodded in thanks as the thug handed the canteen back to Rey before finally turning to face her.

  
He wasn’t much taller than her, only a handful of inches in height separating them. There were crinkles around his blue eyes that hinted at a past filled with hardships. His mouth was pulled down into a frown, though it didn’t seem like he was mad at her, or even anything else. There was no emotion, just a calculating look in his eyes.

  
“You’re Rey,” he stated simply.

  
Rey nodded, unable to form words.

  
“So you’re who my nephew’s been dreaming about,” he said thoughtfully. He looked her up and down once more and chuckled. “You couldn’t have been further from what I imagined, let me tell you.” He turned around and began walking in the direction of Rey’s AT-AT. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder.

  
Rey scurried after the stranger, clutching her canteen tightly to her chest. “What do you want,” she huffed when she caught up.

  
“You’re the last person my nephew came into contact with before he left this planet,” the stranger explained. “He’s not forgotten you, you know. Strange, considering how easy he finds it to kill those from his past. I’m guessing you didn’t venture out further west from the Graveyard, huh?”

  
Rey shook her head. “No one has any reason to go there. It’s too close to the Sinking Fields.”

  
“Ah.” The stranger held out his hand to her, never once stopping or turning to face her. Rey grabbed it awkwardly and gave it an awkward shake. “The name’s Luke,” he said. “Luke Skywalker.”

  
“ _Luke Skywalker?”_ Rey squawked. “As in _the_ Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master? I thought you were a myth!”

  
Luke laughed at her disbelief. “I’m just a man, Rey.”

  
“B-but you… you’re a legend!” Rey gushed. “I’ve heard so many stories about you, about how you brought down the Empire and saved the galaxy! I thought you’d been dead at least a hundred years or something. And why are you even on Jakku in the first place? It’s nowhere.”

  
“I’m looking for my nephew, Ben. I saw him thinking about this planet. The Force guided him here, and it’s guided me after him,” he told her. “And it’s guided us to you. Why do you think, Rey?” At this, he finally stopped, turning to face her. Rey gulped nervously at the intensity of his stare, wanting to look away. But his eyes held hers captive, pinning her in place.

  
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

  
“I sense great power in you, Rey,” Luke said. “You could change the fate of the universe. All you need is the proper guidance. Let me teach you the ways of the Force, Rey.”

  
Luke’s words sent Rey’s body into panic mode. Changing the fate of the universe? Great power? He must’ve had the wrong person. Yes, that was it. No one came to Jakku looking for the next great Jedi Master. No one came to Jakku expecting anything other than sand and wrecked ships. If they were _really_ crazy, they came to Jakku to spot the deranged local wildlife. But not Rey.

  
No one would ever come to Jakku looking for Rey.

  
The realization settled like a burning stone in Rey’s gut. All her hopes of her parents coming back to get her, they were all childish dreams. She’d been stranded on Jakku for nearly half her life at this point, staring up at the sky every night for something that would never be there. Would she even recognize them if they came for her? She wasn’t even sure that the memory of her mother’s voice was even real. For all she knew, it could’ve been the product of the fever dream she’d had when she was ten, conjuring up something bright for her to cling onto as she slipped further away from life. They could be dead by now, rotting six feet under without ever knowing if their own daughter was safe, not caring whether she was growing up happy.

  
“When do we leave?” Rey asked Luke, ignorant of the single tear slipping down her cheek.

  
“As soon as you want to,” he replied quietly. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and swiped away the tear in a kind, paternal gesture, smiling reassuringly. “I know it’s a tough decision to make, Rey, but I think it’ll be for the best. Let me help you.”

  
Rey nodded silently. “I’ll just go pack up my things then,” she said quietly. She plodded over to the AT-AT in slow, lethargic strides. She ran a hand across the sand-coated exterior, committing to memory every dent and slash in her home of six years. She forced open the rusty door and stepped in for what would probably be the last time.

  
The interior was sparsely decorated. Most of her belongings were scraps she’d thought were pretty, as well as a dried red flower in a cup that a kindly off-worlder had given her when she was eight. She picked it up and tucked it into the empty satchel slung over her shoulder. Rey glanced around; there was nothing really important inside. The tallied wall above her bed was the only thing that she really cared about in here, and she doubted that Luke would allow her to break apart her home and take an entire wall with her. Then, she spotted the carved pebble sitting on the foot of her bed.

  
Rey grabbed it, smoothing her thumb over the sharp edge of it where the boy- Ben- had broken it. She slipped it wordlessly into her bag.

  
“ _Keep this as a reminder”_

 __  
“Of what?"  


_  
“Of what you could’ve been.”_

  
She would show him. She’d be the greatest Jedi there ever was, even greater than Luke Skywalker.

  
Rey backed out of the room, holding her breath as her feet met sand instead of metal.

  
“Are you ready?” she heard Luke say from behind her.

  
“Yes,” she said, voice steady. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, just to clear up any confusion that might occur in regards to when the fic is set and how old the characters are:
> 
> The prologue takes place in 21 ABY.  
> The rest of the story will take place take place from 28 ABY and onwards.
> 
> Rey was born in 9 ABY (two years difference from her canon age).  
> Ben/Kylo was born in 5 ABY.  
> Snoke is old as fuck.  
> Luke is old as shit (JK, his age is the same as his canon age).  
> Rhykka is dead, she doesn't count.
> 
> The ages of characters introduced in later chapters will be posted in the end notes of said chapter.


End file.
